


In Moments of Quiet

by taigae



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Background Platonic Chakotay/B'Elanna, Dancing, Episode Related, Episode: s03e14 Alter Ego, F/M, Flirting, Foreground Platonic Janeway/Tom, Friendship, Gen, Male-Female Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:20:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26649694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taigae/pseuds/taigae
Summary: A small moment set at the end of the luau in Alter Ego.
Relationships: Kathryn Janeway & Tom Paris, Kathryn Janeway/Tom Paris
Comments: 14
Kudos: 39





	In Moments of Quiet

She rests her drink on a nearby table and settles back against the column, heavy with the drowsy, familiar feeling that signals the end of the night. She sighs and closes her eyes, enjoying the music, the drifting murmur of conversation, and the sound of the waves breaking on the nearby beach. It's been a long time since they've had a moment’s rest.

“Enjoying yourself, Captain?” There’s a muffled thud as a glass is set down next to hers.

She smiles, eyes still closed, and nods in affirmation. “It was a lovely evening, Tom. You should be very proud.”

“Oh, well...” he trails off. 

When she looks up, he’s blushing — from more than the drink, she thinks. It’s endearing. For all his reckless charm, he’s never been particularly good at fielding honest praise.

Laughter rings out across the courtyard, and they glance over towards the dance floor, where Chakotay and B’Elanna are swaying under the lights. He says something that makes her smirk, and she offers a quick retort. They laugh again, and he pulls her closer. 

Her breath catches at the sight of them — at the way they settle around each other, their easy camaraderie belying a fierce loyalty. It tugs at something sharp in her chest. She knows what it has cost them. 

“They look well,” he says.

“Mmm,” she murmurs in agreement.

“It’s been awhile since I've heard her laugh like that.”

“This was a good idea, Tom. We all needed it.”

They rest for a moment in companionable quiet, watching the pair spinning slowly against the dark. She lets her mind drift cautiously towards more distant memories: graduation celebrations, kisses, Molly snoring gently in the corner as sunlight streams through a window. She doesn’t revisit the past often, but in moments of quiet, she begins to feel the shape and the weight of it pulling at her like the tide. Her sister would have loved tonight. 

“Captain,” Tom says, pulling her from her thoughts, “would you like to dance?”

She looks up, and can't quite read his expression; it’s bittersweet, maybe. He looks tired, she thinks, and every day a little older — a little more like his father, around the eyes. Someday it will break her heart. But there’s a warm breeze winding through the courtyard, and laughter spilling from its corners, and someday is a long time from now. So she nods, and smiles as he leads her onto the near-empty dance floor.

He’s warm and sure as he takes her hand, wrapping the other around her waist as if they’ve done this a hundred times. She smooths her fingers up over the front of his shirt to rest her hand at his shoulder, momentarily distracted by the garish pattern. It's hideous, of course. She laughs as he draws her closer.

“What?” He asks.

“Nothing,” she replies, unable to entirely mask her smile. 

He doesn’t push it, and they fall into an easy, gentle rhythm. The night closes in around them until the warmth of his hand on her waist, the clean ocean air, and the lulling motion of their back and forth is all there is. 

There’s so much she wants to say to him. That she’s sorry. That she’s proud of him. That she’s tried to do the best she can, and knows it will never be enough.

“Tom, I—”

“Shhh.” His eyes are closed, but he’s grinning.

She raises an eyebrow. “I beg your pardon?”

He glances down at her with a look that usually means trouble, and dips his head so that only she can hear him. She flushes at the warmth of the sudden closeness. 

“Let’s pretend,” he murmurs, “we’re anywhere else.” 

She starts to ask what he means, but when she glances up, he can’t quite hold the teasing, flirtatious expression he’s aiming for. There’s exhaustion shifting just behind his eyes. He shakes his head with a small laugh, and gives up the posturing. 

“Just for a moment,” he says quietly, “I’d like to be just a guy on a beach somewhere, enjoying a dance with a beautiful woman.” Her chest tightens and she can’t hold his gaze; she looks away.

Across the floor, Chakotay and B’Elanna are still swaying. He catches her eye and smiles. She loves him, then. Loves all of them: the crew— _her_ crew.

“Alright,” she whispers, and a smile slips from the side of her mouth.

He lets go of the breath he’s been holding, and she laughs as he pulls her close again and spins her with a little more flourish than strictly necessary. B’Elanna looks over at them with a questioning glance, and she rolls her eyes and shrugs in response. B'Elanna smiles and turns back to Chakotay, leaning up to say something.

When she looks back up, Tom’s mischievous expression has returned. “I’m Tom, by the way,” he says. “Nice to meet you.”

She laughs. “Kathryn.”

“Kathryn,” he says, rolling it around his mouth as if he’s never heard it before. “That’s a beautiful name.” He bolsters her weight and spins them around again, more playful now. “So, Kathryn—” He catches himself for a moment, and then smiles and asks anyway. “Where are you from?”

“Earth,” she replies. It settles between them, and this time it doesn’t hurt.

“You’re kidding,” he says in mock surprise. “Me too! Beautiful, isn't it?” He squeezes her hand a little tighter.

She squeezes back. “It really is.”

**Author's Note:**

> this year is hard. tell your people you love them.


End file.
